


she wears her heart on her sleeve

by cresselia



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresselia/pseuds/cresselia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"She should be drunk for this.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>But she's not. Instead, she's completely sober and completely in control of her actions, her own lips centimeters away from Jake's."</i>
</p>
<p>Amy struggles with her seemingly gravitational pull towards Jake while trying to remain faithful to her own moral code.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she wears her heart on her sleeve

She should be drunk for this.

 

That would be an excuse – Jake had been gone for months, leaving her with a last minute confession and a million different scenarios floating around her head. Being drunk, out of her proper state of mind, well, it would be understandable that she'd let her curiosity get the better of her.

 

But she's not. Instead, she's completely sober and completely in control of her actions, her own lips centimeters away from Jake's.

-

i.

 

_Gina and Boyle had been sleeping together. Of course, it was on accident, but it had happened more than once. Really, enough time to warrant the use of the phrase “sleeping together”. At least they'd hidden it well. Until one day Rosa caught the two of them arguing in the evidence lock up, Gina throwing a hideous tie at Boyle and accusing him of leaving it at her apartment as an excuse to hitch another ride of the Linetti Express._

 

_Rosa, being the crack detective she was, immediately pieced the puzzle together. Before either Gina or Boyle could stop her, she'd returned to the bullpen with a deadpan expression and slammed her hand down on the nearest desk. The room fell silent with both respect and fear._

 

_“Gina and Boyle are sleeping together.”_

 

_That was it. There was no elaboration or accompanying joke. Rosa returned to her desk, Gina and Boyle finally caught up to her, and Jake burst into laughter. Amy looked between her now-returned partner and the trio across the room, unsure of how to react. She'd dropped both her folder and jaw in shock._

 

_“That's ridiculous,” Jake protested, not even bothering to get out of his chair and just propelling it over to the group._

 

_Amy sighed in reservation, but followed on foot. Sue her – she was curious._

 

_“See, listen to Jake. He knows I would never stoop so low. Not only is Boyle... Boyle, but he lacks the exotic allure of a New York bike messenger.”_

 

_Jake shrugged. “Plus, Boyle could never keep a secret that big from me. He couldn't even bring me to my own surprise party without giving it away.”_

 

_Boyle, who Amy had noted as suspiciously quiet, avoided eye contact with everyone and glanced at the floor guiltily as Jake spoke. If Amy wasn't sold before, she was now._

 

_“Then why was his tie at Gina's house?”_

 

_“Costume for a floorgasm routine,” Gina replied almost instinctively, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “In it, I transform from a complete two to the total fifteen that I am. It's a piece on metamorphosis, thank you very much.”_

 

_Rosa, as usual, looked unimpressed. “Then explain what riding the Linetti Express means.”_

_Gina faltered. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy spotted Boyle's cheeks flush with embarrassment. She nudged Jake with her elbow and nodded in Boyle's direction. Apparently it was enough of a give away for him. Jake recoiled, taking a step back and placing his hand over his heart with a loud gasp of betrayal._

 

_“It's true!”_

 

_“It's_ not _\--”_

 

_“I'M SORRY I DIDN'T TELL YOU, JAKE.”_

 

_Gina groaned, leaning against Rosa's desk for support. Meanwhile, Boyle looked at Jake with wide, apologetic eyes and perhaps the fearful expression Amy had been witness since she was eight, and she and her brother had accidentally trampled all over her_ abuéla's _garden. Boyle took a step closer, but Jake simply raised a hand out in protest._

 

_“This is going to take some time. You've broken the trust.”_

 

_Boyle let out a wail, and Amy pinched the bridge of her nose, looking over at Gina._

 

_“Seriously?”_

 

_“If it helps, I'm always crazy drunk.”_

 

_“Still chose Boyle each time,” Rosa supplied, scrolling through her computer with a smug grin._

 

_Amy suppressed a grin, only to feel Jake's fingers wrap around her wrist and drag her in his direction with a look of defiance, completely directed over her head at a still devastated Boyle and wary Gina. “I think we need some time apart. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a murder to solve. And Amy's my partner, so I atomically get her in the divorce.”_

 

_Gina shrugged. “That's cool – you can have her.”_

 

_In general, Amy didn't pay much attention to Gina's comments, but she couldn't help but feel the brush of this one. “You've been having a secret affair with Boyle! How are the empress of taste right now!”_

 

_“Alright, judge-y, as if we all haven't seen you and Jake making doe eyes at each other since he got back.” And it's not even especially mean of Gina because she's always the one who calls out the obvious and refuses to care about the ramifications, but it still takes all of them aback._

 

_Jake's grip on Amy's wrist fell, as if he'd suddenly been burned. Amy stood there, mouth open and defiant, but at a complete loss for words. Thankfully Holt and Terry had chosen that exact moment to end their meeting and emerge from the captain's office. Terry looked at the group warily, Holt standing impassive as ever next to him._

 

_“I take it there must be something must exceptionally interesting happening here to distract all of you from your work.”_

 

_Fingers laced behind her head and feet propped up on her desk, Rosa smirked. “Gina and Boyle are doin' it”_

 

ii.

 

_“Stupid Gina. Stupid, stupid Gina,” Amy muttered to herself._

 

_She was on break and doing what she always did to alleviate stress and tension when smoking wasn't an option – organize files in lock up. Call her crazy (and many did), but there was just something about aggressive organizing that cleared her head. She'd been so absorbed in her current labeling that she hadn't noticed someone enter until she heard them clear their voice behind her._

 

_She practically spun around in annoyance. “What-- Oh. … Hi, Jake.”_

 

_He glanced at her with equal amounts of confusion, worry, and amusement. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to puff her cheeks out like a petulant child and sulk on the floor. Grown-up-police-captains-in-training did not sulk._

 

_“You okay in here? You've been filing for, like, forty seven minutes. Not that I've been keeping track.”_

 

_Amy sighed and moved the newly labeled stack of files to the other side of the table._

 

_“Is this about what Gina said? Because I'm sorry about that – you know how she is.”_

 

_“Sorry? Why would you be sorry? Did you tell her about what happened before you left?”_

 

_“No.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Would it bother you if I did?”_

 

_Would it? There was nothing that she needed to be ashamed of or embarrassed by – she hadn't done anything wrong. If anything, it would be humiliating for Jake since she turned him down. Still, the idea of everyone knowing twisted her stomach in an uncomfortable way and made heat creep up the back of her neck. But if Jake hadn't said anything to Gina, then she'd just been making a general observation about the doe eyes, which was just as bad, if not worse._

 

_“No,” she said, looking away quickly._

 

_“Amy, you don't have to lie to me--”_

 

_She cut him off abruptly, sliding past so swiftly that their bodies didn't even brush. “I should go before Holt notices how long I've been gone.”_

 

iii.

 

_She went back to her apartment that night, and Teddy already had dinner made for her. It made her want to cry and kiss him a thousand times over. He's always so sweet, so stable – exactly what she needs after dealing with delirious criminals and quirky coworkers. Things aren't always perfect, and sometimes she wishes for more, but it's not bad. She's content, and that's okay. Not every romance is mindblowing and made of magic; she'd stopped expecting that on her tenth birthday when her first boyfriend unceremoniously dumped her at her own party for a blonde girl who never wore her hair in a ponytail._

 

_But Teddy was good for her, and she'd already begun wrapping her heart in a neat package to give to him at the appropriate time. She expected he'd done the same. It's why she felt guilty over things that she had no control over – why she hid them from him and everyone else. He was a good guy – the best – and he deserved total transparency, but try as she might, it was too difficult for her._

 

_“How's the Nine-Nine?” he asked, circling his arms around her waist and pulling him in. He smiled down at her and pecked the tip of her nose._

 

_“It's fine-- Oh! Oh my God, guess what. Boyle and Gina have totally been sleeping together – we all found out today,” she exclaimed, looking up at him with excitement and expectation._

 

_Teddy simply wrinkled his nose and released his grip on her. “That's strange. They don't seem like each other's type.” And he just shrugged it off, returning to plating the dinner waiting on her kitchen counter._

 

_He never minded that Amy couldn't cook or that she had an apartment that looked as if it had been decorated by a woman Betty White's age, but lacking half of her style and charm. It was something she was grateful for._

 

_Amy followed after him, leaning against the counter next to him. She was perhaps a little more aggressive than necessary. “Yeah, but isn't it interesting?”_

 

_He looked over at her, the confusion written all over his face. “Are you okay, babe?”_

 

_“Never better.”_

 

_Teddy smiled softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead, and that was the end of the conversation._

 

iv. 

 

_The briefing was over, and the squad was all filing out of the room. Amy was barely able to stand up from her seat before she heard Holt call her name._

 

_“Yes, sir?”_

 

_“Is everything alright? You seem distracted. I'm...quite worried.”_

 

_His expression remained neutral as ever, but the words alone were enough to prompt bubbling excitement in the pit of her stomach. However, that was unprofessional, and Amy Santiago was anything but unprofessional._

 

_“I'm fine, sir,” she assured him, straightening her jacket._

 

_“Detective Santiago, if there is something on your mind, I hope that you would feel comfortable discussing it with me. Personal matters sometimes have a way of seeping into our work lives, and it would be a shame if your rise to captain was delayed because of it.”_

 

_He was manipulating her again, of course, but even a year later, she still loved it._

 

_She chose her next words carefully, trying her best not to let eye contact waver. No matter how nervous her expression twisted. “Sir, would you say I have doe eyes?”_

 

_“Your eyes can be rather expressive at times. You have an awful poker face.”_

 

_Amy tried her best not to take it personally, but filed “fixing her poker face” away on her mental to-do list nonetheless._

 

_“Have you ever felt torn between two opposing forces? And there's no way that you can have both?”_

 

_Holt glanced between her and the door for a moment before walking briskly over and closing it. Amy inhaled sharply._

 

_“As you know, I have been an openly gay, black cop since the seventies. You know how long it took for me to get my own command, and how strongly my husband feels in opposition to my job.”_

 

_Amy frowned. “Yes, sir, but this is all common knowledge... I don't understand why you shut the door.”_

 

_“Santiago, have you ever seen me this vulnerable and honest before?”_

 

_Amy swallowed hard and shook her head as sincerely as possible._

 

_“Yes, well, often times it felt as if I would have to choose one or the other. I had more than one officer tell me that I would have to give up Kevin to get anywhere in life. Sometimes I couldn't bring myself to tell Kevin about my work days, knowing how the stories made him hate my chosen profession more and more.”_

 

_“But in the end, you still had both.”_

 

_“I still had to make a sacrifice, detective. My pride and reputation were continuously damaged by the situation, and it took me twice as long to achieve my career goals. I don't regret any of my decisions to this day, but nothing is gained without loss – such is the nature of the universe. You simply have to decide what matters the most to you.”_

 

_For a man so brisk, Amy secretly thought, it had taken him a while to get to the point. But she appreciated it anyway, and not just because she followed every word he spoke to her religiously. Holt was her mentor, after all, and that's what he was doing now: mentoring her._

 

_“Thank you, sir,” she finally managed to get out, her voice the tiniest bit hoarse._

 

_Holt nodded and opened the door, holding it for her as the walked out together._

–

Friday night finds the Nine-Nine at their usual haunt, drinks and karaoke suggestions buzzing around the room. Gina and Boyle sit on opposite sides of the bar with Rosa smirking back and forth in between them. Amy is sitting with Jake and Terry when she realizes that she forgot her keys back at the office.

 

Jake drops some money on the counter and hops off of his stool. “C'mon, I'll give you a ride back.”

 

She can't help but frown. “You've been drinking.”

 

“Half a beer doesn't count.”

 

She knows it doesn't, but she can't help but feel as if she'll be making a decision by sliding into that car alone with him – one she won't be able to take back.

 

“Fine, but only because these heels aren't as sensibly comfortable as the saleswoman led me to believe.”

 

He grins and leads her out of the bar and into his good old, dingy-as-ever car. Something about the empty fast food bags and pile of dirty sweatshirts in the back make her feel on edge and comfortable at the same time, as if all of her nerves are on fire at once. They arrive back at the precinct without trouble, and Jake follows her inside. Everyone in their bullpen is gone, either home or at the bar. The nightcrew works on another floor these days.

 

Jake plops ungracefully into his seat, spinning around as Amy rummages through her drawers in search of the keys. She internally curses herself for being so uncharacteristically careless – perhaps Captain holt had been right after all. He usually was. It was something she should have anticipated, and she cursed herself again for it.

 

“I can't find the keys,” she finally exclaims in frustration, slamming the bottom drawer of her desk shut.

 

Jake perks up and rolls over to her. “Amy, chill. They're probably just hidden under something.”

 

She takes a deep breath and begins rifling through the top of her desk, but nothing.

 

“I'm sure Teddy's there – just text him to let you up.”

 

“That's not the point,” she finally says, and the desperation in her voice is enough to shut him up. “This isn't like me. I never lose things – I'm never – I'm never this distracted. I'm levelheaded. I don't do this.”

 

Jake squints up at her before rising to his feet. He moves closer to her, reaching towards her waist, and for the slightest second she believes that he's about to pull her against him and press his lips to hers. Instead, he reaches for the inside pocket of her jacket and pulls out the missing set of keys.

 

“I could hear them jingling when you started freaking out,” he supplies, pressing them into her palm.

 

Something about their skin-to-skin contact warms her from the inside out, and she closes her eyes to keep from staring into his. It's already embarrassing enough how shallow her breath is – she has a boyfriend.

 

“You need to learn to relax, Santiago.” He chuckles, all deep and throaty, and lets go of her hand. He moves to step away, but she speaks up first.

 

“I missed you. When you were undercover, I mean.”

 

She opens her eyes, and his own are staring at her so wide that she can practically see herself in them. The warm feeling only gets worse. It's nearly enough to make her comfortably drowsy.

 

“Amy,” he warns, as close as ever, “please don't. Please don't do this to me.”

 

She knows what he's asking, but the temptation of the situation is nearly too much for her. Jake is at his best when he's working alongside her, picking fun at every opportunity, but there's something appealing to her about having this power over him. About the way he's looking at her so intensely and pleadingly, like she has all the power here.

 

She can't stop staring at his lips, and she feels the gravitational pull towards them. They're standing so close now; it would only take the slightest movement. She could even play it off as a mistake if she wanted to. Holt's words return to her in that moment, and she thinks of Teddy, probably texting her in boredom from back in the apartment – she had forgotten to invite him out with the rest of them.

 

Amy Santiago wants a lot of things, but she has priorities. She knows that getting what she wants might always come at a cost, and sometimes the price is too much to pay. In that moment, what she wants more than anything is Jake, but the cost is her integrity and his emotions. She's not ready to let go of Teddy – to completely give herself to Jake.

 

She had thought that the car ride would be the ultimate promise of something to come, but it had simply been a red herring for this almost-kiss. She knows that if she kisses him, she'll have to choose him. But she can't even admit it to herself yet, let alone him. If she'll ever be able to. And there's still Teddy to think about – poor, reliable, and friendly Teddy, who she truly loves. Who deserves better than that. All three of them do.

 

She takes a step back.

 

“I'm sorry, Jake,” she says softly, averting her gaze.

 

“Thank you,” he replies breathlessly in response, and she knows that he's pretending to be more okay with the situation than he really is. “I'm just glad you didn't do anything you'd regret.”

 

It breaks her heart because of course he's still focusing on her feelings. She smiles sadly up at him.

 

“I can catch the train home if you want.”

 

In typical Jake Peralta fashion, he bounces back quickly, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “Yeah, right. And deny you the privilege of a car ride in my company? I think not.”

 

Amy smiles gratefully and follows him out of the precinct, locking the doors behind them. Neither speaks the whole car ride, and when she walks through her apartment door, she finds it empty. That night, she crawls into bed alone, but thankful.

**Author's Note:**

> _anonymous request: "jake/amy almost kiss"_
> 
> hi kiddos! i'm nineteen now, i can say that, right? anyway, season two is back and so am i. currently taking prompts over at my fic tumblr (kateleesi). feel free to send some stuff there if you want.


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